How Many Ways
by JamminGirl90
Summary: A series of drabbles about the different ways that Graham and Emma say those three magic words. Gremma. Rated for language.
1. Drunk Dial

_*A series of drabbles, inspired by this post on tumblr: .com(/)post(/)37871854438. Set in a universe where Graham didn't die. Warning: there's quite a lot of swearing in this chapter. Drunk Graham's got a potty mouth, apparently._

_Disclaimer: If I owned OUaT, do you think Graham would be dead? _

(Graham)

The first time he says it is a complete accident. He's drunk and full of self-loathing, fresh from a night with Regina. Another fucking night where he doesn't feel a fucking thing. He calls her as he's walking home from Granny's, Ruby having confiscated his car keys after his fifth shot.

"Emma, it's, um, me," he mumbles when he gets her voicemail. "I know you're avoiding me," he accuses, adding, "Don't fucking blame you. I'd avoid me too if I could."

He reaches his apartment building, slumps down on the porch. "Jesus fuck, Emma, I don't want it to be Regina that I keep falling into bed with. I want it to be you." He pauses, realizing even in his inebriated state how that must have sounded. "Shit," he mutters. "I didn't mean it like that. That's not all I'm looking for. I, fuck…"

This time there's no hesitation. "I'm in love with you, Emma. I'm really fucking in love with you. I, just, I love you."

He hangs up, but not before muttering "I love you" at least three more times. He falls into bed fully clothed, and when he dreams, he dreams of Emma.

* * *

He goes into work the next morning with his heart in both his stomach and his throat. He's humiliated. Can't even fathom trying to look Emma in the eye after that phone call.

By some stroke of fate that he can't believe exists, she doesn't seem upset with him when she walks in. There's no malice in her tone when she greets him, no strain in her smile. He breathes a sigh of relief. She must not know about the message. Must not have listened to it yet.

Emma must notice the change in his expression, because she shoots him a look. Tilts her head, quirks her eyebrow, looks so fucking adorable that it's all he can do not to kiss the smirk off her lips.

"What?" he asks, feigning innocence.

She opens her mouth to reply, but pauses before closing it and shaking her head. "Nothing," she says quickly. "Just…nothing."

* * *

He runs into Mary Margaret outside of Granny's at lunch, and it's nothing short of the awkward encounter he'd expected from Emma that morning. "You, um, you wouldn't have happened to have checked Emma's voicemail by accident, would you?" he asks.

Mary Margaret winces. "Maybe," she squeaks, continuing in a rush, "I didn't mean to, I swear, but it was so early and our phones look exactly alike and by the time I realized it was too late."

"It's okay," he interjects when she pauses to take a breath. "Mary Margaret, it's okay. You, um, didn't say anything to Emma about it, did you?" he asks.

Her eyes go wide. "No, no, of course not," she reassures him, shaking her head. "Oh, God no. I even deleted the message so she wouldn't accidentally find it." She smiles sympathetically. "I understand that you're not ready for her to know how you feel just yet. And the day that Emma tells someone "I love you" will be the day Hell freezes over." She freezes, her jaw dropping. "Oh God," she says, "I didn't mean to imply that she's incapable of love or anything, I just…"

He cuts her off. "It's okay, I get what you meant."

She relaxes immediately. "For the record, I think it's sweet," she says after a moment. "I mean, maybe not the whole telling her via drunk dial, but…sweet. And speaking as her roommate/best friend, you definitely have my stamp of approval."

He grins. "Thanks. And thanks for keeping this a secret…for now."

She grins back. "Not a problem, Graham. And don't worry about Emma," she tells him. "I'll put in a good word for you." She winks before heading into Granny's, a smirk playing on her lips.

He sighs and starts for the station, grateful that he has Mary Margaret on his side. He has a feeling he's going to need it.

* * *

_*These will mostly be from Graham's pov, but there are a couple that I want to write from Emma's. Hope you enjoyed. _


	2. Just A Kiss

_*Okay, new chapter is _finally_ happening. I know you guys have been waiting (not so) patiently, and I really hope the wait is worth it. Sometimes, even when I'm inspired, I just can't get the words to come out right. Anyway, happy reading!_

(Graham)

The second time, he really does mean to _say_, "I love you." What comes out instead is, "Thank you." He cups her face tentatively, and the smile she gives him lights up the room. He realizes she understands what he meant. There's gratitude in her eyes too. For the unspoken words that she understands, but isn't quite ready to hear.

He kisses her again, soft and slow this time. He wants to prove that he can love her without saying it, that he can take things slow. That plan goes out the window when she fists her hands in his shirt and pulls him as close as humanly possible. When the kiss deepens, he understands. Just because she isn't ready doesn't mean the feelings aren't mutual.

He's got her backed up against the desk when it happens. A sharp pain in his chest. A tingling in his fingers, which are now tangled in her hair, her ponytail long gone. The fleeting thought that it would be easy, so easy to slip his hands down around her throat, to tighten his grip, to crush the life out of her.

He doesn't have time to react before the feelings are all gone and he has control of himself again. It's only a brief moment, but Regina's made her point. She's still in control, and her revenge is coming.

He pulls back from Emma, breaking the kiss. She frowns up at him, moving into his space again. He steps back, wanting as much distance between them as possible if Regina exerts her control again. Her frown deepens, little creases forming between her eyebrows.

"Graham?" Her voice is concerned, laced with confusion. "What's wrong?"

He looks up, but can't quite meet her eyes. "Emma, we…we can't do this."

"What?" Her voice is so small, the hurt so evident, that he can't _not_ look at her. The suddenness must have caught her off guard, because this is the most emotion he's ever seen her show. Her bottom lip is quivering, her eyes shiny with unshed tears, and he can see her struggling to understand the sudden 180. "Is this," she starts, clearing her throat and starting over when her voice breaks. "Is this because of what you remembered?"

Graham shakes his head, because it's not, not exactly anyway. "It's because of Regina," he admits. "She doesn't need another reason to go after you."

Emma actually _smiles_. "That's all this is about?" she asks, laughing incredulously. "Graham, I couldn't care less about Regina than I do right now." She steps forward and takes his hand, squeezing it lightly.

"But she's already attacked you, Emma," he protests, unconvinced, running his thumb over the cut on her forehead. "I just don't want to see you hurt." _I don't want to be the one that hurts you._

Emma just shrugs. "I'm not afraid of her. We're happy, and that's all that matters." She pushes up on her toes to kiss him again. "Regina can't touch us. Not now. Not ever."

He wants to tell her just how wrong she is, wants to warn her, make her run away from him as fast and far as possible. But her eyes are full of conviction, her smile so earnest, that he can't. Not without breaking her heart.

"Okay," he whispers, nodding. She absolutely _beams_ at him, triumphant, and he thinks that this might just work. If he can hide the fact that he remembers from Regina, maybe she'll leave them alone. Maybe.

* * *

_*Okay, not entirely sure about the ending, but overall, I'm happy with this chapter. Hope you liked it too. _


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